


Penguin Suits And Evening Dresses

by wackyjacqs



Series: Bizarre Holidays [20]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 11:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyjacqs/pseuds/wackyjacqs
Summary: Jack O’Neill, a three-star General in the United States Air Force, studies his reflection in the full-length mirror and sighs.He looks like a penguin.





	Penguin Suits And Evening Dresses

**Author's Note:**

> Quite possibly, the most random entry to date for this series. Written for ‘Penguin Awareness Day’. Set post-series.

Jack O’Neill, a three-star General in the United States Air Force, studies his reflection in the full-length mirror and sighs.

He looks like a penguin.

With a grimace, he hooks a finger underneath his collar and gives it a little tug.

A really uncomfortable penguin.

“Carter,” he finally sighs. “Do I really have to –”

“Yes.”

“What if I just –”

“No.”

“But it’s –”

“Are you honestly going to go against presidential orders?”

“Don’t think I’m not tempted.”

Her laughter fills the room and his gaze shifts. Sam is currently sitting on the edge of the bed as she slips her feet into a pair of heeled shoes and as he watches her through the mirror, he’s again reminded just how beautiful his wife is.

His _wife._

_His._

He’s still grinning when Sam stands and eyes him warily.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs as he turns his attention back to his own appearance… and he sees his good mood quickly disappear.

“I look like a penguin,” he moans. He catches Sam’s eye in the mirror and catches the long-suffering smile on her face. “What?” he asks defensively, as he adjusts the collar once more. “Whoever thought service dress would be more comfortable than a tuxedo?” he mumbles as he brings his hands down and starts fiddling the cuffs of his jacket.

As Sam makes her way across the room and stands just behind him, she places a hand on each of his shoulders, lifts onto the tips of her toes and lets her gaze wander appreciatively.

“You still look good to me, _General O’Neill,_ ” she whispers into his ear.

_“Sam,”_ he warns.

“What?” she asks with a wicked grin as she turns him around and starts to work at his collar and bowtie.

His own hands soon come to rest on her sides, and the tips of his fingers find bare skin thanks to her backless evening dress.

“You look amazing, by the way.”

His words cause a deep blush to stain Sam’s cheeks and he smiles. He goes to say something else but suddenly he no longer feels like he’s about to choke to death and a pair of hands come to rest on his chest.

“Much better,” she murmurs.

He tears his gaze away and surveys her handiwork. He doesn’t see any difference whatsoever, because he still thinks he looks like a penguin, but he definitely doesn’t feel as constricted around the neck anymore so he assumes Sam’s worked her magic in some way.

He presses his lips to hers and when she sighs and leans in, he deepens the kiss.

Sam is finally the one to break away, and although she looks a little dazed, she manages to tell him that they really should be leaving. He groans at the reminder that they have to go to this fancy dinner Henry Hayes is hosting, when he’d rather be at home, doing other things, with his wife.

A sly grin appears on his face and he takes one of Sam’s hands in his.

“You know… I don’t think Hayes would mind if we were a little late,” he suggests with a wag of his eyebrows.

Sam throws her head back and laughs. “Why would you want to be late?”

He stares at her like she’s suddenly started speaking Goa’uld, and she shakes her head.

“What I mean is,” she says as she steps closer, her voice lowering. “Why go late when we can come home early?”

Jack decides he likes that idea much better, so when Sam steps out of his arms and turns to grab her purse, he abruptly pulls her against him, one hand splayed against her lower back and the other cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, as his lips crash onto hers. She responds in kind and their kiss is hot and heavy and _so_ not what they should be doing right now.

It’s only when the back of his knees hit the mattress that he realizes as nice as this may be, they really can’t skip out on dinner with the President, so he takes his time and slows the kiss and when the need for air becomes too much, he prises his lips away and rests his head against Sam’s.

A quiet curse leaves her lips at the loss of contact and Jack chuckles lightly before he winks at her.

“Let’s save that for later, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Do Americans refer to tuxedos as penguin suits? We do here, so I’m just curious. :)


End file.
